


Ghost Stories

by pasteloblivion



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Jason has a nightmare, M/M, Oh My God
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 12:22:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16555679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pasteloblivion/pseuds/pasteloblivion
Summary: Jason has a nightmare during a camping trip with Marvin and Whizzer.





	Ghost Stories

It must’ve been sometime past midnight. Blades of grass swayed under a crescent moon, summer wind caressing the treetops. Two poorly-pitched tents stood to the side of the campground. Across from them, a campfire. Amidst the chirps of cicadas and crickets, three voices could be heard.

“—And the killer disappeared? Just like that?” Jason asked, glancing nervously around the woods. It was the final night of their camping trip, and Whizzer had been adamant in insisting that they exchange tales by the fire.

Whizzer shrugged. “That’s how the story goes, kid. To this day, legend says that if you venture into these woods to stay the night, you might not make it ‘til morning.”

Though their relaxing weekend in the woods had come and gone without a hitch, there was something about tonight which struck Jason as unsettling. Perhaps it was how Whizzer’s voice projected into the endless night, eerie and unusually quiet. Or maybe he was tired.

He wasn’t scared, after all.

“Really?”

The fire illuminated Whizzer’s perfectly white grin. “Oh, totally. They say you’ll hear three knocks on the posts of your tent, each louder than the last. On the final knock, you’ll hear someone whisper your name, and—“

His father huffed, resting a hand on Whizzer’s shoulder. The couple exchanged an exasperated look, a whisper or two. “When you said you wanted to tell stories, honey, I didn’t think you meant that you wanted to scare Jason half to death.”

Before Whizzer could respond, Jason spoke, his voice coming out as a squeak. “I’m not scared!” He ignored the feeling of dread in his chest. “I know it’s just a dumb story, dad. Can we continue?”

The taller man cleared his throat, visibly concerned. “Are you sure, Jason? Your dad makes a good point. I can tell a different story, y’know.”

“No, no. What happens next?”

He wasn’t sure what inspired him to make such a bold decision. He didn’t exactly want to hear the rest of the story, but something within him insisted that he must. That being frightened was foolish, and Jason wasn’t a fool. That in order to prove himself to be a man, he had to listen.

Another uneasy glance between the two, and Marvin soon nodded his head. “Well, since the killer roams these woods in search of vengeance, if he happens to reach your tent…”

The tale continued. Whizzer’s natural aptitude for storytelling did nothing to soothe the clamor in Jason’s chest, nor did the snapping of distant twigs. Towards the end, he swore he could hear a knock coming from the trunk of a nearby tree.

It wasn’t the first ghost story he’d heard, but it was certainly one of the most wretched. Thoughts of blood and horrific urban legends crept into his mind. He couldn’t help but shiver. He felt small, overtaken by the waves of panic lapsing through his nerves.

But he wasn’t scared.

By the time Whizzer had concluded, the wind had gone cold. Embers of fire began to die out, leaving nothing but ash and smoke in the pit.

Marvin yawned, stretching as he stood up. “Thanks, honey. Wonderful story. Looks like I won’t be sleeping tonight.”

Whizzer followed suit. “That means I did my job! You might wanna get some rest, though, because I refuse to drive us home tomorrow morning.”

The knot in Jason’s stomach only worsened as he bid his parents goodnight, eventually crawling into his tent.

\- - -

Knock.

He woke up sometime in the early hours of the morning, the sky still dark. His limbs thrashed uselessly against the sleeping bag, fighting in a moment of pure terror against the already-fading nightmare. He couldn’t remember the face, but lord, it would haunt him for weeks to come.

Knock.

He screamed. He knew the threat wasn’t real, but that didn’t stop the bloodcurdling sound from leaving his mouth. It echoed throughout the campsite, maybe

He was scared. He was an idiot.

Knock.

His parents rushed into the tent, frantically calling his name. He couldn’t see a face in the darkness, but one of them laid a hand on his back, rubbing comforting circles around it. The other whispered nothings into his ear, assuring him that it was simply a dream.

“Jason, I…” Whizzer trailed off, shortly after he’d managed to soothe the child. As his eyes had adjusted to the dark, he’d realized that Marvin was the one who rubbed his back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told that story. It didn’t even occur to me that you’d have a nightmare, and I—“

“No,” Jason croaked. “I shouldn’t have gotten scared over something so dumb.”

Marvin coughed, continuing the spiral pattern on his son’s back. “Jason, I’m sorry to ask, but why did you insist on hearing it if you were scared?”

There was a pause.

He told them about everything. The fear that quickly rose in his chest, the part of him that craved to feel manly, his inability to flat-out refuse the story. It all came spilling out in one, big rant. And strangely enough, by the end of it, Jason felt better. He wasn’t alone.

Whizzer soon took one hand, and his father took the other. His parents smiled. “Everything will be alright.”

**Author's Note:**

> i don't particularly like the way that this story ended up, but i haven't posted anything in a few months and i thought i'd write a quick story. as always, thank you for reading, and feedback of any kind is appreciated! :-)


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